


After the hunt

by tadok0ro



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, post hunt boning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-16 19:45:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13060896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tadok0ro/pseuds/tadok0ro
Summary: Gascoigne is keyed up after a particularly intense hunt.Henryk helps him come down.





	After the hunt

**Author's Note:**

> ive never written smut before in my life but i tried

Gascoigne sat on the edge of the fountain, panting raggedly and grinning like a madman. The hunt was over for the night and the dawn had begun, a time where a hunter shed his skin and became a man again.

It'd been a particularly intense hunt that night, the beasts unusually numerous and large. But Gascoigne had taken his axe to them all the same, seemingly delighted by the challenge. He'd cut a bloody path through the beasts in a beautifully brutal display of strength that had left Henryk a little worried and a lot arroused.

But that was nothing new.

Henryk sighed, took a step towards his partner. "Let me take a look at you," he said, letting his saw blade clatter to the cobbled ground. He grabbed Gascoigne's face, turned it from side to side, trying hard to ignore the way Gascoigne's tongue darted out to lick the blood off his lips and noting instead his pupils, blown wide, but not collapsing. Good.

He went to step away, but two strong hands gripped his sides and pulled him closer until their bodies collided. Gascoigne still towered over him in the most exciting way.

Gascoigne groaned, a sinfully delicious noise. "Henryk," he muttered into the old hunter's collar.

"The hunt's done, Gascoigne," Henryk said, trying to sound annoyed as he attempted to worm away, despite the rising flush. He could feel the hardness in Gascoigne's pants and it did nothing to calm his racing heart. This was all because of the hunt, Henryk knew, and he needed to stop this before Gascoigne did something he'd regret once the bloodlust faded.

He shoved on Gascoigne's broad shoulders to try to push him away. It didn't work.

Gascoigne laughed, then lifted his head to whisper into Henryk's ear, "I know you want me."

Henryk froze. An accusation and a confession.

Gascoigne pulled his head away and huffed amusedly. "Is that so surprising? I'm no fool." He lowered his head again and practically nuzzled his face against Henryk's. "I've seen the way you look at me." He burried his nose in Henryk's neck and inhaled deeply, groaning on the exhale. "I can smell it on you."

Henryk swallowed. "Gascoigne, I can explain," the words came out a whisper, like a prayer for forgiveness. He'd hated himself far too long for his attraction to Gascoigne, even after the man had wed and had kids and those kids called him Grandpa, he still wanted him. Fantasied about him. Moaned his name into a pillow while fingering himself. Disgraceful.

Gascoigne snarled and nipped at Henryk's throat to shut him up. "I want you too." His tongue lapped at the spot to soothe, relishing the way Henryk shuddered. "Gods, I've wanted you." His hands slipped lower and squeezed Henryk's ass, pulling him closer to grind their bodies together.

Their lips met in a bruising kiss, all teeth and hunger with no finese. Henryk didn't care. Gascoigne kissed how he fought beasts, blunt and brutal, almost like a beast himself. The slick heat of Gascoigne's tongue carried the taste of blood with it that only managed to make Henryk harder.

Gascoigne pulled away to catch his breath, "I wanna fuck yoi," his words slurred as if he were drunk, his carefully schooled Yharnam accent fading away to his natural one. He kneaded Henryk's ass for punctuation.

And Gods did Henryk want that. He wanted to feel those calloused fingers opening him up and teasing his hole in preparation. He wanted to be bent over the fountain and fucked silly in the middle of the square to let everyone in the city know that he belonged to Gascoigne.

"Not today," Henryk said, hating his own rationality and hating the frown that creased Gascoigne's face. This is a one-time thing, Henryk's mind chanted, even as his open opened and sad, "I'll have my fill of you some other time," as he sank to his knees.

Gascoigne's frown morphed into a lecherous gring as Henryk pulled off his gloves and started pawing at Gascoigne's belt.

"Eager are you?" Gascoigne's hand drifted down to Henryk's head, knocking his hat off uncerimoniously so he could run his hand through the brown hair underneath. His belt was tossed aside and the front tore open by feaverous hands, sending the button flying. Gascoigne laughed. "Guess that answers that."

Henryk glared. Of course I am, he wanted to growl, the words died in his throat when his hands found Gascoigne's dick, very hard and very big. He pulled it out to marvel at it in all its glory, mouth practically watering.

"Just going to admire it all day, old man, or are you- guh!"

Henryk took him in suddennly, without preamble, skilled tongue swirling around the flaired head, searching for Gascoigne's sensitive spots. He pulled back to suckle the head and lap at the precome leaking from it with his tongue, and then went back down, taking Gascoigne deeper.

"Gods, Henryk," Gascoigne growled, hand tightening in Henryk's hair. "You're good at this."

Henryk moaned, either at the praise or the tug in his hair or both, he freed a hand to rub at his neglected erection. On the next bob of his head he went down further, feeling the head tease his throat. Gods, he wanted to take it all down. Choke on that magnificent cock until his throat went raw.

"Is this why the League keeps you around?" Gascoigne asked breathlessly, imagining Henryk getting passed around and used by other hunters. "So they can use this skilled mouth of yours?" He thought of Henryk moaning and squirming at their touches and- something inside Gascoigne growled possessively, tightening his grip on Henryk's hair. Mine.

Henryk glared up at Gascoigne, managing to still look dangerous despite having a cock stuffed in his mouth. His skilled tongue flicked across a sensitive spot that had Gascoigne keening. That's not all they keep me around for. Without warning, he took Gascoigne into his throat as best he could. He was out of practice there'd be no way of fitting all of Gascoigne into him tonight, but from the way Gascoigne twitched in his mouth told him that he didn't mind.

"Henryk," Gascoigne moaned, almost begged, like the wind had been knocked out of him. "Fuck." He was rapid approaching climax. "I'm going to-" He tugged on Henryk's hair to warn him.

Henryk pulled back as Gascoigne came with a long groan, his load filling Henryk's eager mouth. He pulled off and swallowed, savouring the taste.

Gascoigne took himself in hand and let the last weak spurts land on Henryk's face.

"You look good like this," Gascoigne said, panting as he admired the mess that was Henryk, spit and cum smeared across his chin and beard.

Henryk wiped his face with his hand, collecting Gascoigne's cum. "So do you," he said before licking the jizz off his fingers.

Gascoigne's spent cock twitched in interest.

Henryk stood, feeling his knees creek in protest. Their things were thrown about everywhere. Gascoigne's belt and shawl had ended up in the fountain and Henryk's hat and mask had fallening into a puddle.

"Not much for pillow talk are you?" Gascoigne teased, a dopey grin on his face, making no move to tuck himself back into his pants. Making no attempt at decency in general. His eyes trailed down Henryk's body lazily, openingly admiring his wide shoulders and slender waste, landing on the concealed erection in the old hunter's pants and he frowned. "You didn't finish."

"We need to get you home." To your wife and kids. "Unless you want the entire city to wake up to your lewd display."

Gascoigne huffed, tucking himself away somewhat reluctantly. "You didn't seem opposed to it before," he stood, legs quivering as they got used to holding up his weight again. He picked up his axe with one hand and the other tried to keep his pants closed now that the button was gone.

Henryk handed him the belt. "Sorry about that."

Gascoigned waved his hand dismissively. "Viola can fix it."

"Right."

They straigthened themselves in silence, as much as two hunters returning from the hunt could, and treked the small distance to Gascoigne's home, with the inscents burning low and lights off within. Gascoigne paused at the door, hand left hovering over the cold metal doornob.

Henryk swallowed, sure about the words he was about to hear: This won't happen again. One time thing. I regret this happened.

"Remember you're invited for dinner tonight," Gascoigne said absently. "Viola's idea."

"Are you going to tell her?"

"No." Gascoigne turned to look back at Henryk. "Not yet anyway."

Henryk nodded.

Gascoigne gripped his arm suddenly and pulled him forward into a hard kiss. Slower, less frantic than the one they'd shared earlier, the taste of blood having fading from Gascoigne's tongue and he licked into Henryk's mouth again.

"Whatever happens," Gascoigne said, after they parted for air. "I don't regret it." He gave Henryk a final quick kiss before he turned and entered his home. The heavy wood door swung shut resoundingly.

A smile tugged at the old man's lips as he began his leisurely stroll to his own home. "I don't regret it either."


End file.
